


In between

by I_am_a_color_13



Category: The Punisher (TV 2017)
Genre: F/M, Fluff, I just love Kastle a lot and think that they deserve something nice, Post-Canon, don't know when exactly, hopefully it is soft, i tried something new
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-30
Updated: 2018-04-30
Packaged: 2019-04-30 08:34:25
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,437
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14493024
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/I_am_a_color_13/pseuds/I_am_a_color_13
Summary: A moment by the beach.





	In between

**Author's Note:**

> I just noticed that being by the water together was kind of "their thing" so I decided to do something super cliché and have them walk along a beach at night while trying out somehing new with my writing so this is very experimental. This is also not edited or anything so please forgive any mistakes. I hope you enjoy! Also I've never been to America so I have no idea what the beaches look like near New-York

As they walk side by side, Karen realizes that they spend a lot of their time together by the water. Ever since they reconnected after the carousel incident.  
She left the roses he gave her all these weeks ago on her windowsill for a while (and had to buy new ones because the cold new-york winter didn’t particularly care about preserving white roses no matter how heartbroken you felt when they died) until she finally got a message and went to the waterfront where they had argued about loneliness and his actions what seemed like a lifetime ago.  
She was greeted by the usual dark silhouette. The blood on his face was gone, no new scars apparent. A little bit of stubble and a grin and she felt at home. 

And they had met several times afterward, always at the waterfront. Day or night. His quest for revenge and justice being over, they mainly talked about her work and how he was settling in his new life. She didn’t get many details from him at first but after a few times, he started sharing more about his friends and that family he was in contact with. They met for a few minutes, half an hour or sometimes longer if she could persuade him to get an ice cream, and Frank Castle with an ice cream is a sight to behold, or they’d move up to a dinner if it was late. 

The waterfront feels like their spot now. They even have their favorite bench. And Karen is starting to know the view from it by heart. Dreams about it at night even. Nice dreams. The kind that feel like a hug. Like home.

 

They are now by the water although a very different kind. It’s not New-York anymore. No skyscrapers or docks in sight. Just the infinity of the sea, the long arch of the beach. The clouds and the sun. The wind is there as well. Water and wind. She used to picture blood a lot when thinking about her relationship with Frank. As if it were their element. Now water and wind have taken over.

The wind is gentle, fresh but not too cold despite the night slowly falling around them. The sun hasn’t set yet but it will soon and is hiding behind long grey clouds at the moment. The sand is grey and the sea is dark. The lack of sunlight and the aftermath of the heavy rain that fell earlier makes everything around them a little faded. In between black and white and colours. That moment when you have to squint a little to make out the shape of each tree because it’s a tiny bit too dark, when everything seems stilled. 

In between.  
Karen has tried many times to define what she and Frank have. She gave up a while ago because there’s no point really. It is real and it’s there and it’s enough. It’s the present and at the same time it feels like forever. In between fits well enough. They are in between. As people and as a unit. In between good and bad. In between friends and something else that is stronger than acquaintance and almost feels like family but is something else entirely. 

She casts a glance at him. His eyes are set ahead as he walks slowly to follow the pace she set when they started to wander around the beach, his hair short and standing up, lightly moved by the wind and his shoulder relaxed. His profile stands out against the light grey of the beach and she admires the shape of his nose and the curves of his lips. Before he can catch her, she turns away to look at the sea.  
Nevertheless, she suspects that he did catch her staring at him because there’s always so much more going on in his head than what he lets out for her to see. And still, she knows she gets to see more of him than most of the world does.  
In between. 

This thing on the beach, this walking side by side while the sun starts to set, hands brushing and her hair dancing softly around her face, this thing is new for them. A new kind of being together. He is accompanying her tonight. 

Karen had mentioned her current investigation in their last "meeting" as they were sited on a bench, biting a bagel. She talked about an event coming up that she needed to attend in order to meet someone who could give her a testimony for her article. The event, something similar to a charity event that could also simply be described as a bunch of rich people coming together to show off their success, was outside of New York in an hotel by the sea. She was planning on driving there, attend the event and drive back to new-York. Maybe take a room somewhere if she could find something cheap in case she didn’t feel like driving.  
When she had explained this to Frank, he stayed silent for a while before speaking up and offering her to drive. She had looked at him with a puzzled look. He wanted to accompany her there, he explained, and it would be easier for her to do her job is she didn’t have to worry about driving back and forth. Plus he wanted to be there with her. For her security. When she argued that no one truly dangerous was attending the event and that she was perfectly capable of taking care of herself, as he knew very well, he had just looked at her before sighing. He knew that, he knew that very well, he said, but would she please let him come with her? Just to be sure? 

The conversation was entering the in between aspect of their relationship, that aspect and deepness that made her understand that he just wanted to be with her so that he could rest knowing she was okay, so that he could be sure he had done all that was possible to protect her. She could have said no, she really could have. He would have respected her choice. But she saw no harm in letting him come and she didn’t like driving her new car much anyway and would enjoy not being alone for the ride.

 

And this is how they ended up on this beach. The party is still in full swing but she got what she came for and so she headed out to drive home. She couldn’t resist when she saw the beach from the terrace of the hotem and Frank assured her that they could walk around a little while, that he didn’t mind driving late. 

The sun is truly setting now. Part of it still hidden by the clouds but what can be seen is bright in a soft way, in shades bewteen pink, coral and orange.  
He stops in his steps and she stands close to him, feeling the warmth coming from under his coat. 

He speaks up and tells her about the first time he saw the sea outside of New-york. A beach with nothing around, something similar to that one, with no stuffs for tourists. Just sand and water. He was visiting old friends of his parents for the summer and they had driven all day long in his father’s car. An antiquity that his old man was madly proud of. And they had arrived late at night to their friend’s house. It was by the beach and Franks says he remembers stepping out of the car, looking at the sea and being left speechless. The sun was setting down, kind of like it is right now, but more purple, more intense. There were no clouds in the sky and the air was warm. The only sounds he could make out were those of the waves and the motor of the car that hadn’t been stopped yet. He could smell the distinctive smell of the sea and it felt like he was entering a painting.  
He remembers that he understood in that moment why people wrote poems about nature and the sea. Because when you grow up in New-York you don’t get it. You see the water but you don’t get it.  
Not until you’re standing on a beach in the evening and you get your first taste of what infinity looks like and realize just how small you are in this world. 

He stays silent for a few seconds while she tries to picture in her head a younger Frank, free of all burden and getting his first taste of infinity. He turns to her and smiles. He says he was a full-on asshole at that time but definitely more poetic than he is today. She hums in disapproval and reminds him of that time he describes a cup of coffee as “the devil’s piss for lack of better words”. His laugh his short but clear and his eyes glance over the beach before settling on hers.

 

Her first time at the beach was when she was a kid. She didn’t have a younger brother yet. Just her and her parents. Her little pigtails and her sweaty hands in theirs as they argued about where to settle their stuffs on the beach. What she remembers most were the sand castles. She was fascinated by them and made it a life mission every summer to build the best one ever, enrolling Kevin in the task as soon as he was of age. 

She doesn’t talk much about Kevin with Frank but he knows enough to stay silent after she stops speaking.

 

The sun is almost fully set now. Frank is looking at her and she is staring at the waves. Mind full of memories and feeling of contentment, she bends down to take her shoes off. Sticking her feet in the sand, she miles and closes her eyes relishing the feeling of the fresh sand against her skin. She always used to love doing this as a kid. To feel rooted in the sand. A part of it. Immersed but not stuck.  
She looks up at Frank who is slightly frowning at the sight of her legs ankles-deep in the sand. She just likes how it feels, she explains and he shakes his head. Ignoring him and his obvious lack of ability to enjoy this small pleasure, she takes her feet out of the sand and starts walking up to the water. 

She hears him call her name but doesn’t stop. It’s been too long since she’s done this. Only when she is knee deep in the water, her skirt in her fist with her shoes, does she turn around to find him standing right at the edge of the water. He seems almost hesitant looking between her and the waves. She raises her shoes in defiance, daring him to join her and scoffing loudly when he stays still. His expression is hard to make out in the dark but she can sense him getting offended. Frank doesn’t like it whenever she questions his abilities or his bravery which of course means she often teases him about it. 

The small waves are carressing her legs, her toes are immersed in the sand and he is squatting down to take his shoes and socks off.  
She turns around, moving her legs and feet in the water. She puts each of her shoes in the pockets of her coat to have her hands free and when she looks up, he is here next to her. Standing in front of her.  
He arrived without a sound and, not for the first time, she wonders how he manages to be so silent when she spends every second with him hyper aware of his presence and his body, how he manages to erase his presence when whenever they are in the same space he is the first one she notices. His eyes are dark and fixed on her and despite the cool water and the lack of sun, she doesn’t feel cold.  
Her hair gets in her eyes and she looks down to brush it away. Which makes her notice that he didn’t even bother to roll up his jeans before entering the water. He grunts then argue that he is going to get wet anyway and when he sees her eyebrow raising, caves in and explains that the jeans were too tight to be rolled up. She laughs and he offers to carry her shoes to change the subject. She refuses and take a step closer to him.

If she were to take one step closer, their toes would probably touch, she thinks. And their noses. And maybe more. But they are in their very own in between, staring into each others eyes despite the lack of light, breathing each other in and she is reminded of another moment standing this close to one another. But there was blood. So much blood and no time. Now there is no blood, only the wind and the water and all the time they want. 

Another strand of hair comes in her eyes and before she can brush it away, his fingers are brushing her cheeks, pushing it away slowly. He lets his hand fall and brush against her own. His fingers are resting on her knuckles and her breath is on his cheek. The moon is now bright up ahead in the sky. And despite the speeding drums of her heart in her chest, she takes a few painfully slow seconds to turn her hand against his so that their palms are facing. His eyes dart down to look at their hands and then glance up at her before moving his hand a little on the side and then forward to intertwine their fingers. 

She gets flashbacks to the soap-operas she used to watch with her grand-mother that were always set by the sea and featured many scenes of kissing, love declaration or even love making on the beach. She knows that this isn’t their style, that they don’t even need to do anything like that to make it real. That they are way too real for this kind of cliché but there’s no doubt in her mind that the in between is about to be crossed.

Karen Page is holding hands with Frank Castle in an evening dress with her shoes in her pockets and her legs knee deep in the sea. 

She could kiss him, she thinks. On the cheek. On the lips. She doesn’t think he would object.


End file.
